


'til your heart goes numb

by LuckyDiceKirby



Category: The Bright Sessions (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, mark deals with his feelings by making poor choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 04:42:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14762795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyDiceKirby/pseuds/LuckyDiceKirby
Summary: Slight AU of episode 54. Instead of going out and getting drunk with Rose, Mark goes for a drive.





	'til your heart goes numb

_“Hi, you’ve reached Rose! Sorry I can’t come to the phone right now, but I’m definitely doing something really important. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you!”_

So that option’s off the table. Which leaves, let’s see: the girlfriend Mark isn’t speaking to, the sister he _really_ doesn’t want to deal with right now, high schoolers who don’t need to hear about Mark's problems, Frank, who doesn’t need to hear about Mark’s problems while he’s trying to work, and—that’s about it.

Mark really needs more friends. 

But who needs people, right? Joanie is is always telling Mark how nice it is to get some space. Telling him he should take some time for himself. Or she was, before Mark got enough space for a lifetime.

So he borrows the car keys—Sam can deal with it—and drives. Nowhere in particular, just _away_. Anywhere but here. Anywhere he won’t feel like he’s suffocating under the weight of all the things people want from him. Who they want him to be, what they want him to do, how they want him to feel. 

Mark should hate being on the road, after what happened with Damien, but it just feels like freedom. Just him and the road and no one else. 

He stops at a diner after he blows past about eighty miles, wondering if they’ll have cornbread. It looks like one of those little bit of everything places. He’s still thinking about cornbread when he sits down at his booth and takes a look around. His trusty DSLR is at his side; he thought maybe he’d try to get a few good shots of the place.

Damien is sitting in the corner, hunched over in the same stupid hoodie Mark has never seen him without, and all at once the thoughts fall out of Mark’s head. 

Don’t look up, Mark thinks. Prays. Don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t look up—

Damien never listens. He looks up, meeting Mark’s eyes. 

Mark doesn’t know what his face is doing, but Damien looks like he’s about to get hit by a truck. 

Mark stands up mechanically. He’s sure that he’s going to get up and throw the waitress an apologetic look and get back in his car and drive away. He’s positive that he’s going to do that, right up until the moment that he slides into the booth across from Damien. 

“Mark—” God, he sounds exactly the same. How long has it even been?

“What are you doing here? Did you—I don’t know, did you follow me somehow?” And to think, he used to tell Joanie she was paranoid. Well, sue him. His life for the past several years has earned him a healthy does of paranoia. 

“Everyone always thinks I’m following them, and somehow _I’m_ the self-centered one,” Damien says sourly. He gestures at his empty plate. “I’ve been here for an hour. What, can’t a guy stop to get a bite to eat around here?”

“‘Around here’ is kind of the sticking point, Damien.”

Damien rolls his eyes. “Come on. We’re miles away from civilization out here.”

“And what exactly are you doing, miles away from civilization? Definitely not heading back into town, right?”

Damien stabs at one of the crumbs on his plate with his fork. “I was going to turn around,” he says, bravado turned down to fifty percent. “I wasn’t going to actually—I was just worried, alright? Your _girlfriend_ called and said—”

“I know what she said, Damien.”

He snorts. “Right. She told you, so now you’re pissed and are off on some kind of self-pity bender. Sam really should’ve taken my advice. It would’ve been better for everyone.”

It’s odd. Damien sounds so much the same, but the way he holds himself is different. Maybe it’s the set of his shoulders. He’s doing something to make himself seem smaller. “Which was?”

“To keep her damn mouth shut.”

Mark shakes his head. “Of course it was.” 

“Yeah, good thing perfect little Sam Barnes didn’t listen to me, even though she called me in the first place—you really think she and I are that different, Mark?”

“I know you are.”

“She thinks we have one thing in common, apparently. One thing, like she’s so perfect, like she’s never done anything wrong in her life. _I’m_ the only one who ever screws up, right? She has no fucking idea what she’s talking about.”

“What could she possibly think you two have in common?”

Damien finally looks up at him then. Mark doesn’t think he’s been sleeping much. “You,” he says, voice gone small. “That we both—care about you.”

Mark balls his hands into fists against his thighs. “Don’t be stupid. Now who doesn’t know what they’re talking about? You don’t care about me, Damien. You don’t know how. You care about controlling me. Like I’m something you can own.”

“That’s not true,” Damien says. “I _tried_ to do what you want. I’m trying!”

“I practically had to blackmail you into leaving me the fuck alone—””

“I was _going_ to leave you alone, all of you, and then Sam calls, and Chloe shows up here—”

Mark blinks. “Chloe was here?”

“Yeah, and guess what? She apologized! Can you believe it, someone apologizing to _me_?”

“I believe it. Chloe’s always been a better person than any of us deserve,” Mark says. 

“I told her I was sorry for the stupid lamp,” Damien says. He stares back down at his plate. “I am sorry.”

He sure fucking looks it. “I’m not sure you know what that really even means, Damien.”

“I’ll go,” Damien says. “If that’s what you want. If you tell me to leave I will.” His voice has gone to gravel. It’s hurting him to say it. Mark feels a vicious stab of pleasure at that. Damien likes to pretend he’s indestructible, but it’s so incredibly easy for Mark to hurt him. Damien’s like an open wound around him. 

Mark just has to ask, and he can be alone again. He could call Sam. Make fun of what an overdramatic ass Damien is. Not talk about their stupid issues and pretend it’s _fine_. It is fine. It will be. It has to be.

Joanie and Sam would both want him to do it. And, God, what’s the worst that can happen? Mark always does this with Damien. Mythologizes him. Convinces himself that Damien is this big scary monster, when deep down he’s just—a man. A useless loser who fucked up Mark’s mess of a life. 

He used to think that Damien must have a black hole where his heart should be. But Damien does have a heart. He just doesn’t know what to do with it, and probably he’ll never learn. But he’s only a man. He can’t hurt Mark anymore. Mark told him to skip town and he did it. Damien's not the one with the power here.

Joanie and Sam think that Mark’s weak, that he needs their help. He doesn’t. He can take care of himself.

“Stay,” Mark says. “Just this once. Tell me how this functional-human-being thing is working out for you.”

Damien isn’t any good at controlling his face. He looks so grateful that it’s pathetic. This is such a bad idea. It’s only going to encourage him. But Damien only ever does exactly what Mark expects. That sounds pretty nice, right about now. 

“It sucks,” Damien says. But he’s smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> The diner's unofficial name is "convenient narrative coincidence diner". Title from Novocaine by Fall Out Boy because Fall Out Boy lyrics is my Mark and Damien fic title go to, apparently.


End file.
